


Safe and Sound: Ghost Tricked

by Siver



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Gen, Post-Game(s), Spoilers, new timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 14:25:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: Aka Safe and Sound rewritten. Cabanela has been struggling with odd memories. When Alma's birthday comes around he's certain something terrible will happen. Not one to ignore instinct he goes to them despite blizzard warnings





	Safe and Sound: Ghost Tricked

**Author's Note:**

> A complete rewrite of the first fic (by same name "Safe and Sound") I wrote for Ghost Trick and the first fic I'd written in a long time. I was looking at it again and there was a heck of a lot bothering me. I knew I could do better now with a better handle on characters. All the main ideas remain but otherwise has been completely overhauled.

Cabanela drummed his fingers on his desk and tried to focus on the papers in front of him. Checkboxes and blank lines stared at him waiting to be filled in – dull and a poor distraction from the thoughts that plagued him all day. He plowed through most of the paperwork already despite his growing agitation as the day progressed. Only a few more small things to go that started to feel as though they were taunting him.

It was irritating. He should be reveling in victory after closing a difficult case, not dwelling on a sense that something was wrong, _had_ gone wrong - no was going to go wrong. Yes, going to be – that was it. And it didn’t make a lick of sense.  

There was a lot that didn’t make much sense lately, if there was any to be found in the regular nightmares, anxious mornings and the inexplicable pit of dread he sometimes felt at seeing Alma. And among it all he couldn’t shake the feeling that Jowd was somehow at the centre of it. Jowd who, somehow in ways only he could pull off, managed to seem at times closer than ever while regularly having all the distance of a remote mountain peak.

His gaze drifted to the empty desk across from his. There was no distraction to be found there; Jowd had taken a rare day off for Alma’s birthday. He’d been strangely insistent on it, Cabanela reflected. Alma’s birthday… There was something there… some thought trying to grab his attention but gone the moment he tried to focus on it.

With a twirl of his pen Cabanela dragged his attention back to his work. Fill in a line here, check off a box there and sign off with a flourish.

He leaned back, stretching out his legs and glanced out the window. There were blizzard warnings and if the deepening darkness and building clouds were anything to go by it was well warranted. He would have to make sure to leave soon. Terrible timing to happen on this day. This day… 

He bolted upright nearly leaping out of his chair in reaching for his phone and was dialing the number before he fully realized what he was doing.

One ring, a second, a third. Not a problem. A fourth and fifth. _An unanswered phone. Terrible news._ His grip on the receiver tightened. Six…

“Hello?” There was Alma’s voice, breathless but there.

Cabanela breathed out. “Heeey baby. Everything all right?”

“Cabanela? Yes of course. You caught me going out the door.”

She was okay and why shouldn’t she be? “Jowd makin’ you run errands on your special day?” He glanced at the window. “Bit late, isn’t it?”

“Just a run to the corner store before it gets worse out there.”

“Then allooow me to wish you a Happy Birthday before you go! Sorry I couldn’t see you today. Are you sure-”

“No,” Alma cut him off. “If you want to do anything for me today then go home soon and be safe.”

“I knooow when I’ve lost. Make sure Jowd spoils you. He’s gotta do something to make up for leavin’ me alone with all this paperwork.”  He grinned as Alma’s tinkling laugh filled his ears.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make him pay for that. I’d better go now. We’ll see you Saturday for lunch?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, baby. Have a looovely evening.”

A last bit of paperwork and filing to do and then he’d follow her orders. Nothing to worry about. The twisting in his gut told him another story. She was fine, everything was fine he repeated to himself, letting his hand run on automatic. A signature here. Papers from a report gathered there. An end to the tedium.

She’d go out and make it back in plenty of time. She’d return home and…

He looked out the window again. No snow yet. There was time. The smart thing, he knew would be to go home; it was far closer than theirs and he would make it easily. It was the logical thing to do that had no chance against every sense that screamed danger.

He could make it. Alma would scold him something fierce, but no matter. It would be a sorry day when he ignored his gut. It was well worth a lecture, _if she was able._ The treacherous thought flitted through his mind and with that he sprung from his chair.

Going home would have been the intelligent thing to do. If it wasn’t for the fear wrapping around him, Cabanela might start to regret his choice. The snow started in a gentle fall shortly after he left; it was even pleasant. It didn’t last long before shifting to fast and furious clumps that stung his face and left him squinting in protection and in an effort to see.

The bike was another bad idea and he started to wonder if, despite his distaste, he should have borrowed one of the police cars. Checking on safety was justifiable. He tightened his scarf. Driving in these conditions would have been a bad idea as well, but at least it would have been warm and granted protection against the rising wind whipping snow at him while finding every gap in his clothing.

He pressed on. He couldn’t let it happen this time. Not far to go. What if it was too late? Not too much farther. She couldn’t be dead. Soon.

At last the house stood in front of him. A soft glow barely visible through the snow shone from the windows. He slipped off his bike, and staggered through the snow, eyes fixed on the door while becoming more aware of the rapid beat in his chest. He hammered at their door and waited. Seconds seemed to take an eternity to pass. _There’s been an incident. Alma…_ He swallowed and raised his hand to knock again or to open it – he wasn’t sure which. The door opened before he could decide and _she_ stood there, in the warm light now flooding out.

Cabanela’s knees went weak. She was okay. She was alive.

Alma gaped at him, her eyes wide before narrowing dangerously. “Cabanela! What on earth are you doing here?” she demanded. She grabbed his arm and pulled him none too gently into the blessed warmth.

He wanted to laugh – she was okay, wonderfully angry and alive – until he tensed as another thought crossed his mind. She wasn’t the only one. Something of his worry must have shown as some of Alma’s anger faded to concern.

“Where’s Jowd?” Cabanela asked tightly.

“Upstairs with Kamila,” Alma said. She eyed him with a mixture of worry and suspicion. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

He sagged with relief. “Nope! Everything is fine, just fiiine and dandy,” he said brightly. They were safe, they were both safe. How he was going to explain this one was a matter that could wait until he felt less numb.

“Was someone at the door?”

Cabanela snapped to attention at the deep voice. And there he was: the final proof. Jowd entered, but stopped dead at the sight of the dripping detective standing in a steadily growing puddle in his hallway. They stared at each other and for the first time that day Cabanela felt the fear truly drain away. They were both here, they were both alive and well. They were _safe._ Everything was the way it was supposed to be. When had he ever been so glad to be so wrong?

The relief was almost unbearable. Jowd ran forward as Cabanela’s knees buckled and he tried and failed to catch his balance against the wall. He fell into Jowd who caught him and he gripped his shirt. He was here. The warmth seemed to pierce through the numb chill reminding him of how cold he actually was. He had no idea if it was only the cold or adrenaline or both, but now he shivered violently against Jowd as water trickled in streams down his coat. Jowd wrapped his arms around him and exchanged a baffled look with Alma over his head.

Alma laid a gentle hand at Cabanela’s back. “You’re soaking my husband and standing in an increasingly large pool of water,” she said. “Come on, let’s get you out of that coat before I get a lake in my hall.”

Cabanela took a shuddering breath and pulled away from Jowd, feeling as though his limbs had been replaced with heavy pieces of wood. He peeled away his gloves and fumbled at his coat with stiff fingers until Alma caught his hands, pulled them away and swiftly removed it and his scarf herself.

“I’ll hang these to dry,” she said. She frowned at Cabanela. “You, living room. Jowd fetch a blanket. I’ll make us some tea.”

Cabanela sunk into their armchair with relief and attempted to get his brain moving at a speed faster than molasses. Where had it all come from? Why today? He scraped a hand over his eyes before letting them close. The better question was why did it hit so hard today? Hardly the first time things felt wrong, but never this bad. _An empty home and a missing gun._ His eyes flashed open as Jowd entered. He wore the same look he’d worn too often over the past while and one Cabanela was growing sick of – distant and appearing as though he had the whole world on his shoulders. He tossed a blanket at him and left to join Alma in the kitchen before Cabanela could get a word in.

_You’ll fess up soon old friend. I knooow you’re involved in this._ Whatever this was.

 

Alma set the cups on the counter harder than Jowd thought necessary.

“Why?” she demanded. “What possessed him to do this?”

“It’s your birthday,” Jowd said.

“So? I told him not to…” Alma took in the tense set to Jowd’s shoulders and realization dawned. “Oh… But he doesn’t know… does he?”

“Know? No, I don’t think so.” He sighed. “Does he suspect? With him the two may as well be one and the same.”

Alma stared at the kettle thoughtfully. “He called earlier. I don’t think I would have thought much of it on its own but combined with this, he seemed genuinely worried.”

“He hasn’t been himself lately,” Jowd said slowly.

“I’ve noticed. Nothing obvious, but you’re right.” She leaned against the counter with a frown. “But you said only you four could remember it. How could he know anything?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about Sissel?” she asked.

Jowd glanced toward the little cat sitting in the corner of the kitchen watching them. “Well?”

_“You know as much as I do by now. Lynne’s shown signs of knowing more than she should. They both died, both got cores.” He gave the impression of a shrug. “Maybe there’s something to that.”_

_“You told me they didn’t have cores anymore.”_

_“They don’t, but none of us really know exactly how this works.” Sissel’s tone took on an almost affectionate note. “Heh. We’re talking about the powers of the dead here,” he said quietly. “They don’t have to make sense.”_

“Sissel doesn’t know either,” Jowd said out loud to Alma.  

Alma crossed her arms. “You know, if you just told him none of this would be happening.”

“And I’ve told you why I haven’t. I didn’t want to tell you either, but someone,” he shot a look at Sissel, “had other ideas.”

“The right idea,” she replied. She gestured toward the living room. “You can’t keep letting it go on like this. If he’s starting to put two and two together he’ll only dig harder. There’s no sense in prolonging the inevitable, is there?”

Jowd’s hands clenched and Alma recognised the signs of another attempt to shut down. She touched his arm.

“Hun, he spent five years on you. What are you afraid of?”

“And why put him through it again?”

“You know if given the opportunity he’d do it all over. He can handle it. You can’t just leave him with scattered pieces that he can’t put reason to. Today proves how much this is getting to him.” She met and held his gaze. “What are you really afraid of?”

He looked away. “Let’s see what he has to say. The tea should be ready.”

He gathered and took their cups. Alma stared after him, lips pursed. Hopeless and Cabanela wasn’t much better. Just how long had this been going on without a word from either?

“Birds of a feather,” she muttered and followed Jowd with a small smile at the answering meow from Sissel.

The couple took their place on the couch while Cabanela remained ensconced in the armchair under the blanket. No one said anything and Jowd and Cabanela traded glances before turning their focus to their tea. There was an attempt at a casual air that quickly failed under the weight of unanswered questions.

Regret had no place in Cabanela’s vocabulary and while he certainly didn’t regret this action he wished he’d given more thought toward how to handle it if he was wrong. But then, he came fully expecting to be right, he realized with a pang and that thought scared him more than anything that happened this day.

Now what was he to say? “I thought… no, _knew_ Alma was going to die?” In retrospect it was ridiculous, yet he never ignored his hunches before and to risk doing so this time was unthinkable. And how to explain the flashes of memory that weren’t his, yet couldn’t be anyone else’s? What of the dreams that were just a little too vivid?

Alma spared him even as her voice startled him out of his thoughts. That was wrong too – that a part of him kept expecting _not_ to hear her.

“So Cabanela, what did bring you here during the worst snowstorm we’ve had in ages?” Her tone was light but he could detect her scold and worry just as he recognized Jowd’s tension beside her.

He took a long drink of his tea and stretched so his toes peeked out from underneath the blanket. It was a stall for time and they all knew it.

Jowd looked ready to say something. Cabanela only just spotted Alma’s foot nudge him. So much for that rescue if rescue it was. There was nothing for it.

“Just a nasty hunch, baby.” he finally said. “Looks like you’ll fiiinally get to mark the calendar, Jowd. I was wrong.”

“I suppose we’ll have to start celebrating an anniversary too,” Jowd replied cheerfully.

Alma shot them both a Look. “And this hunch?” she prompted.  

Cabanela was finding it more difficult to look at her now, to see only her and not blood and a body. He took a sip of tea.

“I must be workin’ too hard. Couldn’t quiiite shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen to you, Alma.” He forced himself to look at her and instead of the surprise or skepticism he was expecting, he saw her exchange a knowing look with Jowd.

“I was sooo certain,” he found himself saying before he could stop himself. “You comin’ home. Gettin’ shot.  And Jowd… Jowd was gone.” Where was this coming from? He wanted to stop but it was as though a floodgate opened. “He claimed it was him, but that was nonsense. Years…” Investigations he never conducted, circular discussions with… someone, a gun. Manipulator. The word floated in like a piece of flotsam in the sea of uncontrollable thoughts and memories and with it came a feeling of dread and fury.

A flash of sharp glass over a twisted grin. He suddenly tightened his grip around the teacup as he almost dropped it. Pain, so much pain, but nothing compared to the thought that he was about to lose it all, that he would never see Jowd again with only a tiny sliver of hope contained in a pocket watch. His hand drifted over his chest seeking an ache that wasn’t there.

A cool touch against his cheek shook him out of his daze. Alma and Jowd stood by him now. Alma held a hand to his cheek.

“We’re here,” she said softly.

He was shaking again, but knew it wasn’t from cold this time.

_‘And finally you Inspector Cabanela._ _If you hadn’t done what you did…’_ The words shot through him like a sudden knife, sharp and bold, cutting his breath off.

He leaned into Alma, but fixed Jowd with a piercing stare. “What really happened, Jowd?” he croaked. “What did we do?”

Jowd sighed heavily. “I never wanted you to know.” A bitter smile crossed his face. “Somehow I should have known better with you.”

He offered Cabanela a hand. Cabanela took it and was pulled up with Alma taking his other arm. They moved to the couch and Jowd settled between them. Sissel sprung up behind them and Cabanela was sure he saw his tail flick Jowd’s head before he curled up.

Settled in like this Cabanela could feel the exhaustion trying to settle in only held off by the prospect of answers. _A perpetually ignored weariness held off as long as possible to focus on the only goal that mattered._ He let himself lean on Jowd. If Jowd’s explanation had the benefit of stopping the constant flashes of insight and snippets of memory all the better. Or, preferably clear the fog from them.

“Tell me a story, baby,” he said.

And Jowd did. It took time with many pauses: some quiet, some accompanied with a look back at Sissel and many pained, but it all came out.

“And here we are,” Jowd finally said.

“That is quiiite the tale.”

“Do you remember it?” he asked slowly and quietly as if he didn’t want the answer or hoped for a no.

Now that was the question. Did he? “Like some sooort of dream,” he said. “Some things seem clearer than others, but I wouldn’t exactly call it rememberin’.”

It would be unbelievable if it didn’t explain everything from his own experiences to Jowd’s behaviour, even the cat.

While it still felt too dreamlike to feel entirely real, some points stood out starkly above others and he glared up at him.

“Death row?”

Jowd winced.

“Don’t worry,” Alma said. “I’ve been making sure he fully understands the consequences of trying to take that particular action.”

“If you need help in that worthy goal, you’ve got it, baby.”

“I think she has it well covered,” Jowd said dryly. He shifted to pull his arm out from under Cabanela’s leaning –  

“You’re not helpin’ your cause,” Cabanela said.

– and wrapped it around him instead.

“Much, but that’s a start,” Cabanela added without missing a beat.

He sighed and leaned more heavily into Jowd’s embrace. The snow continued to fall heavily outside while they remained in a warm bubble of safe contentment. With Alma on one side and him on the other, the three of them together like this, this was the way it was meant to be. The past was the past, and truly nothing more than a bad memory now.  This was the perfect moment and one he hoped would last a good long time.


End file.
